


Saturday Afternoons

by firethesound



Series: Days of the Week [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff, Ice Cream, M/M, Walking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-24
Updated: 2013-10-24
Packaged: 2018-02-15 19:15:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2240304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firethesound/pseuds/firethesound
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Somewhere along the line, Saturday afternoons had become the best part of Draco’s week</p>
            </blockquote>





	Saturday Afternoons

Somewhere along the line, Saturday afternoons had become the best part of Draco’s week, though he couldn’t remember exactly when he and Potter had started up this particular habit. Like so many other parts of their weekly pattern, they’d just sort of slipped into it and Draco had only realized afterward, after it had already become a routine that he found himself looking forward to.

Rather like this whole thing with Potter had, he mused. Their paths had crossed entirely by accident, and kept crossing until before he knew it, Draco caught himself looking forward to the next time he’d see Potter. And then, all of a sudden, they had Monday night dinners out, and Wednesday afternoon walks in the park, and Tuesday nights at the cinema. But somehow, Draco liked their Saturday afternoon outings for ice cream just a little bit more than the rest. Even more -- and Draco would never admit this to Potter, even under pain of death -- than he liked their newest habit of spending Thursdays in bed. And he liked their newest Thursday routine very much indeed.

But there was just something about their Saturday afternoons that felt gentle and innocent in a way that precious few things in Draco’s life had ever been. It felt a little like the painfully sweet first dates his own turbulent adolescence had deprived him of, and a little like the beginning of _something more_. Whatever it was, and whatever this thing with Potter was, well. Draco knew enough by now to recognize a good thing when it stumbled its way into his life.

Bells jangled as the door of the ice cream parlor swung shut behind them, and Draco paused for a moment to relish the warm feel of the sun on his skin as he hauled in a great big deep lungful of fresh spring air. Potter watched him with a smile playing at one corner of his mouth, then offered his elbow to Draco.

"Shall we?"

Draco nodded and slid his hand into the crook of Potter's arm, and Potter gave it a brief squeeze, trapping Draco’s fingers momentarily between his elbow and ribs. Draco bumped his shoulder gently against Potter’s in response.

They set off down the street at a slow and rambling pace, enjoying the unseasonably warm spring day and simply being with each other. Draco took a long lick of his ice cream and let his eyes drift shut as the flavors mingled on his tongue. Exquisite, as always. This week, he had selected white chocolate raspberry swirl and it was every bit as good as it looked.

"How is it?" Potter asked, gently steering him a little to one side.

Draco opened his eyes and smiled. "Very good. I don't suppose I need to ask you how yours is." He eyed Potter's ice cream cone, already half gone.

Even though Potter always got the same flavor, week after week after week, he always ate it with unrivaled enthusiasm, as if it were the most delicious thing he'd ever tasted. Draco, on the other hand, never repeated flavors, electing instead to try something new each time. 

Each week, they spent a good ten minutes in the ice cream parlor while Draco paced back and forth before the glass-covered freezers as he weighed the pros and cons of each flavor, Potter standing solemnly at his side and nodding periodically at Draco's monologue. Draco would eventually narrow it down to two or three flavors, debate for a bit longer, then place his order. Potter would take one final look over all the containers of ice cream as if coming to a decision of his own, then place his own order. One double-scoop of chocolate in a cone. And not rocky road, or peanut butter chocolate crunch, or even chewy cherry chocolate chunk. Just plain chocolate. Week after week. Always the same.

Draco was still working on his scoop of ice cream when Potter began to munch on his cone. Draco looked over at him and sighed. "Potter."

"Hm?" Potter looked over at him, eyes wide and innocent behind his spectacles. "What?"

"Hold still," he said, then licked his thumb and swiped it across the smear of ice cream on the very tip of Potter's nose.

"Hey," Potter protested, scrunching up his nose and rubbing it with the back of his wrist. 

"You had ice cream on your face," Draco told him with a dramatic sigh as he slipped his hand back into the crook of Potter's arm. "Can't even take you out in public. What am I to do with you?"

Potter rubbed at his nose again and shrugged. "Dunno. Just keep me, I suppose."

Draco's heart gave a funny little tug that he didn’t care to examine. Instead, he rubbed his fingertips gently along the rough fabric of Potter’s sleeve and watched a pair of pigeons pecking at the flattened remains of a half-eaten bagel in the gutter.

"Why don't you ever get anything other than chocolate?" he asked at last, when the pigeons were half a block behind them.

"I like it," Potter said simply.

"Yes, well, I like chocolate too, but I don't tie myself to it week after week. Aren't you curious to try anything new?"

Potter looked at him and smiled. "Sometimes, but not really." His smile softened. "When I find something I really like, something that makes me really happy, I tend to just stick with it, you know?"

A faint blush crept over Draco's cheeks. He wasn’t sure if they were talking about ice cream anymore. He didn’t really think Potter was that subtle, but sometimes he said things like this and Draco couldn’t help but wonder. Potter popped the last of the cone into his mouth and munched, dislodging Draco’s hold on his arm to briskly brush his hands off against each other. Draco sighed again.

"Potter. You've got ice cream by your mouth," Draco said.

“Again?” Potter blinked and rubbed at his chin. "Did I get it?"

"No, it's more over here." Draco indicated the spot on his own face.

"Got it now?"

"No, it's still-- No, you still haven't-- Oh, for pity's sake!"

Draco grabbed Potter by the back of his neck and kissed him, his tongue darting out and swiping across the smudge of ice cream just above Potter's lip. He stepped back to inspect his work. 

"There."

Potter licked his upper lip, his tongue tracing the same path Draco's had. He rolled his eyes. "Whatever would I do without you?"

"Wander around looking like a mess, most likely," Draco muttered, the taste of chocolate still lingering on his tongue.

It seemed wrong to cover the exquisite flavor that was part Potter and part chocolate with the cloyingly sweet taste of raspberries and white chocolate, so Draco tossed the remains of his cone into a nearby rubbish bin as they passed by. His fingers found Potter's and their hands folded together, and when Potter’s thumb rubbed over the back of his knuckles, as if the contact of palms and fingers still wasn’t enough for him, Draco couldn’t help but smile.

Perhaps, Draco thought, next week he would order chocolate ice cream for himself.


End file.
